The Forgotten
by TheMonsterWith21Faces
Summary: Those characters who are not seen for a long time go to limbo. So, too, do those who are featured in horrible Fan Fictions. One day, however, the Forgotten assemble to reclaim their place and topple the Fan Fiction empire.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved "South Park". She always found a reason to like every character, and a reason to like almost every episode (_almost_ being the operative word). The thing was, she had no one to discuss it with. So she decided to go on the South Park forums, where she heard of this strange website where fan fiction was written.

She was excited, thinking that the South Park Fan Fictions would be full of creative stories, albeit using characters created by someone else. She typed the address into her address bar and went to the section labeled "South Park".

And her hopes were crushed like a rabbit trying to give a piggy-back ride to a diplodocus.

And the diplodocus was morbidly obese.

And the rabbit's skeleton was made of dry pasta.

She stared at the screen as her favorite characters were horribly, horribly misused to the point where she wasn't sure if she was just reading some horribly written, homo-erotic smut that just coincidentally used the names of the characters from "South Park" or not. But, sadly, it wasn't so.

So she decided to do something about it. She formed an idea in her mind, an idea she would use to her advantage. She signed up to this website of atrocities, grinning with pleasure as she selected a name.

And began to write.

**Author's Note: Edited for grammatical errors. I guess, in my haste to publish this, I forgot to proofread. On a somewhat unrelated note, Chapter 1 should be up soon, if my notoriously inconsistent attention span doesn't get the better of me. And with that, I bid you farewell.**


	2. Chapter 1- Limbo

**Author's Note: *Sigh*, I suppose I should state the disclaimer now, even though it's pretty obvious. I own none of South Park, its characters, or anything related to it. Trey Parker and Matt Stone do, the lucky bastards. Anyway, without further ado, here is my first chapter.**

The Forgotten

Chapter 1

Most of them didn't see it coming. There they would be, going about their business on a day that seemed to be completely normal in every conceivable way. But then _wham! _There they were in some endless limbo, stumbling around mindlessly in a state of utter confusion, never given any information as to where they are or what was going on. Sometimes, though, they would come across someone else walking around the cold and empty space. However, neither of the two hapless souls knew what the buttery fuck pies was going on.

There was, of course, a reason for this. You see, in the world of South Park, sometimes a character will mysteriously disappear for a long time. And sometimes, they don't come back. After a certain period of inactivity from this one particular character, they are labeled as Forgotten and whisked away to the dreaded limbo.

The population of the limbo included Big Gay Al, Mr. Slave, Towelie, Dr. Mephesto and Kevin, Skeeter, Dougie (Or, as he is better known, General Disarray), God, Mr. Hat, Santa Claus, and Satan.

But limbo was about to see some new Forgotten. The names of these particular characters may surprise you. They came all at once, stumbling bewildered around the vast, monochromatic landscape.

"What the hell is going on?" said Eric Cartman, the very first to pipe up. "Does it look like any of us know, fat-ass?" Kyle stated irritably. "I didn't ask you, you stupid Jew!" Cartman retorted.

"Don't start fighting, you guys. We just got here." Stan said, trying to keep the peace between the two. "You're right. We have to figure out where we are." Kyle replied, cooling down a bit.

"H-hey fellas? I think I found somethin'." came the voice of Butters. "What is it?" Stan asked, as they rushed over to where Butters was standing.

"Is that…" Stan began. "A joint?" Kyle interrupted. "What the fuck is a joint doing in limbo?" Cartman asked, though to no one in particular.

"That's not what we should be worrying about right now. We SHOULD be worrying about getting home!" Kyle said, in the normal, irritated tone he took when dealing with Cartman.

"Well, the fact that there's a joint here proves that there must be someone else in limbo. Maybe they know what's going on." Stan pointed out.

"F-fellas, there's something else up here. M-maybe it's another joint." Butters said, about 10 feet away. The boys rushed over to his location.

The next ten minutes or so were rather uneventful, just following the trail of fallen joints. But I will tell you that after these rather boring ten minutes had passed, the boys came across the aforementioned Forgotten all sitting in a circle. The joints, of course, came from Towelie.

"Hey, um, sorry to disturb you, but… do you know what's going on here?" Stan asked the slumped figures. "Ah, fresh meat," replied one of them, which happened to be Dr. Mephesto. He grinned a bit and turned to face the boys. "I suppose I should start with—wait, you?!" Dr. Mephesto shook his head a bit, not fully comprehending the identities of the 4 boys in front of him at this very moment. More heads turned to face the boys (except Towelie, of course), more shocked expressions, more confused whispers.

"Yes. Us. Why is that a surprise?" Cartman asked Mephesto. "Well—it's just that… Okay, let me start from the beginning," Mephesto replied (or, rather, ATTEMPTED to reply), rubbing his temples and breathing deeply before he continued.

"You see, boys, a lot of weird things happen in our town, the town of South Park. And a lot of people get involved in these happenings. Sometimes, they only get involved once or twice. But once they are part of the action a third time, they are bound to the weirdness by 'semi-regularity'. If they are a part of the incidents more than ten times, they are further bound to them by 'regularity'. People who are 'regular' are much more at risk to getting in our… situation than those labeled only 'semi-regular'. So to keep… this from happening, they are subconsciously drawn to these events by whatever means necessary, as is the case with you. But I don't understand it; you should have been set for another 10 happenings. You've come too early; there must be another reason for this…

"I'm sorry; I got a bit off-track there. Anyway, sometimes the 'regulars' or the 'semi-regulars' will not be involved in an incident for a long time. When this happens, we are brought to limbo by some _higher power,_" Mephesto paused to glare at God, saying the next part in his direction. "Who has _complete control_ over the _entire FUCKING world_ and _every single one of its inhabitants._"

"Hey, I had nothing to do with this. The fact that I'm here proves that." God said defensively. Mephesto nodded his head, still somewhat unconvinced. He then turned back towards the boys and began speaking again. "And we are never seen again. We call ourselves 'The Forgotten', because that's what we are. No-one seems to notice that we're gone. Do you understand?"

"Kind of, but one question: How do you know about all this? I mean, about 'regularity' and what people think—or rather DON'T think—of your disappearance?" Kyle asked. "It's simple. Whoever put us here talks to God, and God talks to us." Skeeter said.

"S-so basically, God t-talks to God?" said Butters, for the first time since he found the second joint. "Yup." Skeeter replied. "It's true," God said. "I speak to the HIGHER higher power."

"But what doesn't make sense to ME, and ALL of us, for that matter," Dr. Mephesto said once more, gesturing towards the boys with his posterior-staff-thing. "Is YOUR presence here. You've been to a lot of these incidents recently."

The five boys looked knowingly into each other's faces, clearly stifling laughter. It became harder and harder for them to do so until, at last, they couldn't control it anymore. They just let out a few muffled giggles and half-chuckles at first, gradually ascending to the type of laughter that causes you to lose your balance and, eventually, your ability to breathe. Eventually, Kyle regained his composure just enough to say "No, not US, dude. Not US. WE weren't there." before dropping to the ground once more. Mephesto looked immensely confused, as did the rest of the Forgotten.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Dr. Mephesto replied. Eventually, the boys stopped for long enough to piece together their common thought.

"Dude," began Cartman, still shaking a bit. "Why would WE act like that? Why would I become best buddies with the Jew-fag? And, more importantly, why would I become a Jew myself? It doesn't make sense!" As Cartman said this, Kyle looked agitated, but remained silent.

"And why would I repeatedly sell out my friends for fame, fortune, or iPod nanos? THAT," Stan said, becoming a bit more passionate towards the end. "Is what doesn't make sense."

"And going back to what fat-ass said: why would we become friends? We're complete fucking polar opposites!" Kyle added.

"A-and how I been actin' lately, w-well it just isn't me. Bein' all mean to grandma… and everyone else, f-for that matter. I deserve a good groundin', for all the things I've done." Said Butters. "So, you see, it wasn't us, Dr. Mephesto. Those people are imposters." Said Stan, wrapping up their story.

"I understand." Dr. Mephesto said. "Should we tell them about—" Satan began, but was cut off by Dr. Mephesto.

"I know you're anxious to get to that, Satan. But I think it's best if I explain it to the children." "What would that be?" Mr. Slave asked, almost certain of what Mephesto was going to say, but not quite. Mephesto said nothing, but gave Mr. Slave a look that reinforced what they already knew. "Children," Mephesto began, looking very sympathetic. "I need to tell you about fan fictions."

"Fan fictions? What are those?" Cartman asked. Dr. Mephesto sighed before continuing.

"You see, sometimes a copy of us is put into the hands of another creator. They manipulate these copies of us into their own twisted image, often having the copies do horrible, uncharacteristic, and often quite… erm… inappropriate things. And the worst part is this: You are forced to watch EVERY SECOND of it. It's quite horrible."

"How will they force us to watch it?" Stan asked. Suddenly, he felt a light, steady tug from behind, which gradually increased in strength. He looked behind himself, expecting to see a rope or similar object.

Well, there was a rope, in a sense. It seemed that his very essence was being pulled back, causing an insubstantial, almost ghostly brown-red tendril to form behind him, which was growing in length and width as more and more of him was pulled away. He looked around, noticing that his friends were suffering a similar fate. He caught a final terrified look from Butters before he was completely pulled from the ground, rocketing upward and backward at an alarming speed. He watched as The Forgotten quickly disappeared into the whiteness as he traveled to a location unknown. He attempted to kick free, but he saw that his legs no longer existed. Nor did his arms. Nor did anything else. He was simply a floating consciousness in an infinite sea of white. At last, he accepted the fact that he did not know where he was, or where he was going.

And, at that point, he didn't care about either.


	3. Chapter 2- Stan's Fan Fiction Adventure

**Author's Note: Again, I don't own anything. I don't think I should have to say this more than once, but I want to make sure it is firmly drilled into the skulls of the readers. Therefore, I will not be posting this on any other chapters. And as much as I'd love to ramble on about this for another 1,500 words, I have a story to write.**

The Forgotten

Chapter 2

After a long period of only semi-consciousness, Stan was jolted back to reality by the fact that the monotonous white around him was dissolving. As he looked closer, he saw that what lay behind the quickly dissipating limbo was… a town. And not just any town, either.

It was South Park.

Homesickness clouded Stan's judgment a bit as he frantically flailed his body, hoping to move closer to his hometown. But sadly, he came again to the realization that he had no limbs, no body. He was reminded again that he only existed hypothetically on some astral plane, being dragged along by the hands of an unforgiving creator. But at last, the pulling stopped. It took Stan a second to comprehend the equally familiar and alien setting that was his bedroom, where the pulling had stopped. He recognized the general layout, and it gave him the feeling that he was in a safe, familiar place, but beyond that, it didn't resemble the bedroom he grew up in at all. The floor was covered in rumpled, presumably used clothes, as well as several magazines. He looked up at the walls to see posters advertising bands he would never even dream of listening to. Now, he looked down at the bed to see a large lump concealed within covers that were stained with what appeared to be a strange, white crust. Suddenly, the lump stirred and awoke, throwing off its blankets as it did so.

It was Stan. But it wasn't Stan, because this Stan was 16 years old and captain of the football team. This Stan was the inhabitant of this dank, miserable excuse for a bedroom that was once bright and innocent. This Stan had a 1.0 grade point average and had wet dreams every night. This Stan needed but the flimsiest of excuses to remove his shirt in public and at this very moment was clothed in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.

This… was Fan Fiction Stan.

Fan Fiction Stan gazed half-asleep at the clothes on the floor, grumpily picking up a few and putting them on as he walked out of his room and down the hall. True Stan, a helpless spectator on his non-material plane, was dragged along, forced to watch the every move of this moronic swilldip.

Breakfast at this nightmarish hellhole was fairly mundane, mostly due to the fact that Fan Fiction Stan hadn't opened his fucking mouth yet, except to stuff more bagel matter into his face. But the real fun began when Stan finished said bagel.

Three honks were heard outside, which was just enough stimulation for Fan Fiction Stan to turn his three-inch-thick skull towards the door. Finally, he got up, slinging a backpack over one shoulder and heading towards the door. True Stan was, of course, unwillingly pulled along. The door swung open, revealing what appeared to be an older version of Kyle sitting in an SUV.

_An SUV? But… Kyle's a staunch supporter of Hybrids! _Stan thought as he was dragged into the front seat of the SUV via Fan Fiction Stan. _Though I guess, technically, this isn't Kyle _he mused to himself. It was at this moment that he noticed the two imbeciles sitting in the back. It was kind of hard to recognize either of them, but if one looked close enough…

After analyzing the two figures thoroughly, he concluded that the muscular-looking one with brown hair and a red jacket was Cartman. He also concluded that the naked blonde one trying to procreate with the seat was Kenny. True Stan was still baffled by their behavior, however. _Cartman? Muscular? How the hell does THAT make sense? And Kenny… I knew he was perverted, but not THAT perverted. _Nonetheless, he still listened to their conversation.

"Did you hear the news, dude?" Fan Fiction Kyle asked Fan Fiction Stan. True Stan was surprised to hear that Fan Fiction Kyle still had the voice of his ten-year-old self, somehow.

"No, what?" Fan Fiction Stan replied, with the voice of his ten-year-old self. True Stan mentally clapped a hand over his mouth. Even though he clearly didn't say it, he still felt that he did.

"Craig's throwing a party for the 50,000,000,000th time this millisecond, retard. You coming?" Fan Fiction Cartman said, still possessing the voice of—yeah, you get the idea at this point. "Sure, I guess." Stan said. "Sweet." Kyle said, before a comparatively uneventful drive to the local high school.

They got to high school quick enough, where they met Fan Fiction Butters. "Hey, fellas!" Butters said, though without his characteristic stutter. "Hey, Butters." Kenny replied while discreetly rubbing his still-exposed dick. Butters pulled down his pants and bent over, ass-crack high in the air.

The scenario that followed evoked five solid minutes of mental screaming from True Stan, followed by two minutes of mental crying and finally, as he was tugged away by the forceful grip that bound him to Fan Fiction Stan, 10 straight minutes of mental vomiting.

Homeroom was no better for True Stan. The teacher (still Mr. Garrison, somehow) took roll call, and there were many more surprises for him.

"Tweek Tweak"

"Here!" said a still somewhat jittery Tweek, but much calmer than normal. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was sitting in another boy's lap.

"Craig Tucker"

"Here!" said the boy Tweek was sitting on, his voice no longer drained of emotion.

"Bebe Stevens"

"Like, here!" said a really dumb-looking girl in the back. True Stan did admit to himself, that came as no surprise.

"Wendy Testaburger"

"Like, super totally OMG, here!" said an even dumber-looking girl wearing a top that was ½ a centimeter away from just being a bra. True Stan was extremely surprised at this. _Wendy?! Oh god, what have they done to you? _he thought.

"Jimmy Valmer"

Silence.

"_Jimmy Valmer"_

"Who the hell is that?" someone asked.

"Urgh, never mind." Mr. Garrison said.

Just as True Stan began noticing the strange glances exchanged between Fan Fiction Kyle and Fan Fiction Stan, the bell rang for students to go home. _Huh, _True Stan thought. _We're only 2 minutes into class. _Wave after wave of students arose from their seats, making their way towards the door as if this were the longest day ever. Fan Fiction Stan shuffled zombie-like into the hallway, when he was approached excitedly by Fan Fiction Kyle.

"Dude, the party's tonight! Are you excited?" Fan Fiction Kyle asked Fan Fiction Stan, brimming with enthusiasm.

"Not really." Fan Fiction Stan replied in an overly dramatic manner. _Cunt _True Stan thought. "Why not?" asked Fan Fiction Kyle, tilting his head in curiosity. "Well… It's just… I kind of… y'know…" Fan Fiction Stan muttered in an equally dramatic fashion. _Cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt_ True Stan thought. Fan Fiction Stan said nothing, and instead began to passionately kiss Fan Fiction Kyle. True Stan mentally slapped his hand against his face. For the first time in Stan's short life, he was beginning to feel homicidal urges.

At that point, the scene changed without warning. They were suddenly at the party, with no explanation or even a hint as to how they got there. Hoping to solve his ever-mounting confusion, True Stan looked around. Nothing. But suddenly, they were approached by Fan Fiction Cartman.

"Ay," he began. _At least THAT hasn't changed_ True Stan thought, mentally blowing a sigh of relief. "What the hell d'you think you're doing with my boyfriend!" True Stan mentally growled and clenched his fists. _Fuck,_ he thought.

"What're you talking about, fat-ass?" Fan Fiction Stan asked, irritated that he had been interrupted.

"Kahl and I have been in a relationship for a long time." Fan Fiction Cartman said, pulling Fan Fiction Kyle away from Fan Fiction Stan. "But-but I love him!" Fan Fiction Stan cried desperately. Behind him, True Stan grimaced.

"Impossible, Stan," Said Kenny, who appeared from nowhere and, still naked, hugged Stan from behind. "_I _love you!"

"But Kenny," said Butters, also appearing from nowhere. "I thought you loved _me!_" "Wait, I thought Cartman loved you." Kenny stated.

"Screw it, I know how we can solve this," Stan said, grinning devilishly. Everyone joined in the next triumphant cry of "BUTTSEX CIRCLE!" _No,_ True Stan thought. _No, no, no, no, no. I've been through enough today. No, no, no, no, NO._

But, ignorant to his pleas, the five boys took off their clothes (except for Kenny, who was way ahead of them) and had a buttsex circle.

5 minutes later, Fan Fiction Stan paused. Everyone stopped with him. Fan Fiction Kyle turned his head so he was looking at Fan Fiction Stan. "Did you hear that, Stan?" he asked. "Yeah." Fan Fiction Stan replied.

"What?" Cartman asked. "It was like… a really, really quiet scream. Almost inaudible, really." Fan Fiction Kyle replied.


	4. Chapter 3- Short Transition Chapter

The Forgotten

Chapter 3

Stan awoke in limbo, covered in his own vomit. He looked around, seeing Cartman, Kyle, and Butters in a similar state of vomit-coated shock. "Th-that was one of the most horrible things I've ever experienced." Stan shakily whispered, getting used to his material body once more. Once his eyes focused, he could see that Big Gay Al was crying. "That's how it starts," he said between tears. "Every time. That's ALWAYS how the whole goddamn thing begins."

"What are you talking about?" Kyle asked. Mr. Slave placed a hand on Big Gay Al's back before explaining. "You see, kids, you weren't the first children to come here. There were others before you, namely Tweek, Craig, Wendy and Bebe. They were used in fan fictions as well. And, well… it's never pretty when they come back.

"The first time, they come in a state similar to your own: covered in vomit and barely coherent. And, well, it escalates. Soon, they don't even interact with us at all, they just sort of stare into space muttering gibberish. Not long after that, they come back screaming, grabbing the nearest mildly sharp object and castrating themselves. All too soon, a few fan fictions later, they kill themselves."

Big Gay Al broke into a particularly violent fit of sobs at this point, and had to be further comforted by Mr. Slave, who was now avoiding eye contact with the boys.

"So, boys, you're pretty much screwed," Satan stated soberly. "I'm sorry, but you can't escape it. Wait, already?!" Satan looked shocked all of a sudden. The boys looked behind them, seeing the all-too-familiar tail behind them.

"Oh, God dammit." Was all Cartman managed to say before being sucked off into Fan Fiction land once more.

This experience in the land of Fan Fiction was very similar to the first, so similar that the boys were not entirely sure if they were just experiencing the same story or not. Thus, I will not put their various adventures into detail. In fact, I don't have any idea as to why I included that last bit. Perhaps it was sheer laziness. Perhaps it was some arrogant notion of not wanting to destroy my beautiful mind-sick. Perhaps the little shoggoth that lives at the back of my head is ass-fucking my brain again and I can't think straight. Perhaps I'm simply trying to pad out this chapter. Whatever it may be, it was pretty much needless. So let us begin again, the second time the boys come back from the land of fan-fiction.

"It shouldn't have happened that quickly," Satan said as the boys finally began to stir. "Usually it takes 2-3 days for the next fan fiction to whisk them away, not 2-3 minutes. Why is that?"

"I don't know why it's happening, and God knows how we can stop it." Mephesto said. A brief silence followed. "Well, do you? It's kind of important."

"Why is it always me who must answer these questions?" God asked, rhetorically. He sighed with annoyance, but answered the question. "The fact that the children were transported to a different area proves that there must be a way to get out of here. My guess is that it was either their flight or their transportation to a different plane that triggered it. What we need to do is construct some sort of… dimensional-plane shifter… flying… thing."

All eyes suddenly trained on Santa Claus, who had remained completely silent until this very moment. "What? You think I have a dimensional-plane shifting flying machine just because I'm Santa Claus? I do, but why would you think that?"

Complete silence. "Fine, I'll get your fucking flying machine!" Santa exclaimed, before storming off while mumbling something about "massive fucking pricks".

"Great," Mephesto said. "Now we just need a guinea pig." Everyone remained silent for a moment, deep in thought.

"A-are you sure this is safe, fellas?" Butters asked nervously, strapped into something that looked like a cross between a helicopter and an iron maiden.

"Trust us, you'll be fine," Cartman yelled over the din of the machine. "You wanna get out of here, don't you?"

"W-well yeah, I suppose so," Butters said. "But how do I fly it?"

"You see the big red button with the words 'DO NOT PRESS' written on it in big block letters?" Santa Claus yelled.

"I-I think I can f-figure out what I do next on my own, M-Mr. Claus." Butters said, pressing the aforementioned button. The machine growled irritably, spewing out a large cloud of smoke. A mechanical whirring and chugging ensued as the machine appeared to blur, stretching upwards as if it were being sucked through a black hole. A bright flash filled the vision of all those present, and when the painful afterimages faded, everyone noticed that the helicopter/iron maiden was gone. They stared dumbstruck at the space where it once stood for what seemed like hours.

"I was going to tell him to avoid that button." Santa Claus stated simply.


End file.
